Next Time, Duster
by Shepard-Vakarian
Summary: My female Dwarf Commoner, Orsecka Brosca, during the events of the Dwarf Commoner origin. Series of chapters exploring the brutality of the Carta and living as a casteless in Orzammar's society as Orsecka tries to remain true to herself whilst working for the most dangerous dwarven crime syndicate. Might turn into a story if the inspiration continues.
1. Beraht's Favor

Beraht burst through the door and my heart pounded, my breath stuck in my throat quivering a soundtrack of wheezes, wisps and gulps as his hand snaked around my neck. My lips gave birth to choking sounds growing ever faint as I felt his hold tighten.

"You were supposed to _kill_ the guy. You think you'll last ten seconds in the carta if you can't kill a traitor?"

Beraht's method of criticism wasn't unusual; no matter how much I told myself that these outbursts were scarce and only caused by my own weakness. His eyes crinkled in fury, spitting through his beard as he cursed everything that I was, promising that I would never turn out to be more than carta scum.

I had been convinced that if I kept one lyrium nugget to myself and gave the other lyrium nugget to Beraht, he would think that I had shaken Oskias down and taken everything he had – and I would be able to go home with the thirty silvers minimum I'd be able to get for the lyrium nugget to buy my family some food or clean clothes. It had been too much to hope for, he'd seen through the ruse and wanted to make me pay. He wouldn't kill me if he thought there were any use left in me. But as the drowsy feeling of unconsciousness washed over my body, it seemed that he had seen too much good in me. Beraht wanted someone that could kill on sight, to throw away their morals on a whim, and no matter how hard I tried – knowing I'd be dead if I didn't – when it came to it, I accepted a bribe rather than kill the guy. My eyelids grew weak while Beraht's anger still radiated against my limp body. No one would find me, we were in one of the carta's many hollow abandoned buildings in Dust Town. When Beraht had said he wanted to meet here, I could only pray to the Stone that I would survive to leave again.

Next thing I knew, my eyes squinted as the dusky view of Dust town met my gaze. I awoke in the middle of the square, as if I had passed out drunk. When I looked beside me, ol' Nadezda was sleeping on the ground, dirt worn over her face like a marker. When you had to beg for food, a little dirt to the face wasn't worth a complaint. It wasn't just the face brand that you could tell a casteless. You could tell one in the finest jewellery, we dusters were the ones that never looked down at anyone. We were the ones that could take a silver and make it count. Where having sex for money wasn't a question of openness but of how much they were willing to give for the act. The ones that asked for food and a bed to sleep in, never anything else.

My neck and shoulders were sore and I umpfed my way through the door of my home, noticing upon my arrival a cylindrical container on my doorstep. It was worn silver with a few scratches but largely intact. Stolen, most likely. I tugged at the written parchment inside and unfurled the paper, revealing the words:

'Next time, duster, you're dead."


	2. Replacable

Scrambling to my bedroom where my sister Rica slept, I let my eyes linger on her porcelain face, the deep scarlet lips, the tussles of hair that were being knitted together like a straightjacket. No doubt the latest hairstyle of all the noble hunters. She must've gone straight to sleep when she came home, no doubt after a long day of attempting to seduce all the most honourable nobles into giving us a chance at a better life. It stabbed at my heart to think of Beraht showing my sister around like he was marketing the latest sword, without any regard for Rica's welfare – or mine for that matter. Not like we had any choice though, what could we say? 'Sorry Beraht, we'd sooner die on the street?' If the Carta didn't outright kill us on principle, we certainly weren't capable of surviving on our own.

"I just wish I was better at being a member of the Carta" I mumbled to myself, wondering how many chances I would have if I screwed up again. Best case scenario, Rica gets knocked up by some noble that let's us stay in his estate and I can carefully ease myself away from the Carta's grasp. Worst case scenario, Beraht wakes up very cranky tomorrow morning and decides I'm not worth the effort of a second attempt and kills me outright. The thought terrified me more as my eyes once again lingered at Rica's innocent faces. I was part of the Carta to give her a chance at a life away from this. Without me, Rica would have to step up. I didn't want that life for her.

Later that evening, Leske came over to update me on Beraht's orders.

"Rica will be back in the Diamond Quarter. Duster, you and I are fixing a proving. Beraht has a lot of money on Mainar losing tomorrow and we're going to make that _happen_."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"How?"

"It's _real_ simple Duster. We got _this_."

Upon finishing his sentence he pulled out of his pocket a vial of colorless liquid. My eyes widened as I realized what it was.

"We're going to drug him." I stated plainly.

"You got a problem with drugging stuck-up warriors that wouldn't think twice at kicking dirt in our faces?" he drawled in a condescending tone.

I outstretched my hand and Leske handed me the bottle to view it properly. With cautious observation, I lifted the lid from the vial and inhaled it's scent. It was faintly sweet-smelling, which helped me identify which drug we were using.

"You know it?" Leske interjected as I carefully put the lid back onto the vial.

"It's a muscle-relaxer, makes you feel drowsy and not at full concentration. It also has the ability to knock you out completely if concentrated enough. I've used it on Mother when she's had trouble sleeping."

I recalled this with Leske accepting it with a nod. His dark brown eyes looked into my icy blue, his lips pursing together as if trying to work out what to say next. I might've mistaken his burning gaze as lust if I were not still nursing a bruised collarbone from my previous encounter with Beraht.

"You got hurt?" his voice broke the silence.

He took a step towards me and lowered his head to observe the trail of bruises across my neck, inspecting them gently with his thumb. My eyes were on level with the black braids in his hair. I moved my head slightly as per his direction and he continued to look down at my wounds – at least I think he was still looking at them – while I was thinking how much I'd underestimated his level of concern for my wellbeing. My cheeks turned pink as I caught him trying to glimpse under my armor – at which point I playfully shoved him away.

"Hey, hey now! You know I didn't mean nothing by it. Your sister though..." Leske let out an audible 'woof' sound followed by a grin. He looked at me as if to gain my approval. I shook my head as if I couldn't believe his manner, but in all honesty it was always the case. I was the plain one, that Duster with the long brown hair rather than the sexy redhead, with the plain body and the earthy rosebud cheeks. Leske could obviously see the happiness drain out of me, as his smile vanished. I could even read him well enough to know that he was rewinding the conversation back in his head to see if he could pinpoint what he'd said wrong.

Suddenly, the penny dropped.

"Oh, Duster, I mean, uh, I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't-"

With a curt laugh, I assured him.

"Don't worry about it. I'm hardly going to tell you to get out of my life because you find my sister more attractive. If I did that I wouldn't have any friends left."

I tried to make light of the situation but Leske knew that he'd crossed a line.

"Go already. I gotta eat. I'll meet you at the Proving Grounds in the morning." I told him, leading him out of the door as fast as I could so he couldn't see my hands shaking from weakness. As I closed the door, I sighed. I was proving my point, that I didn't need some guy telling me I was beautiful to live my life. And it was a disaster.

After having something to eat- Rat stew, my favourite - I managed to pull myself into Rica's bed. It was so much nicer than mine and she seemed to be out again. I hugged my legs up to my chest, my eyes blurred with tears as I awaited morning to come.


End file.
